ChildhoodView OnlineTwo Mares, One BodyChildhoodNow to start off, as my daughters said, this isn't going to be a dramatic sob story about how cruel my life has been. I...we...are telling you our story. And fair warning, my memories are spotty at best. I've always had bad memory problems. But the bad parts of my life I remember more than the good. So to start, let's go back to when I was about 3-5 years old. I remember bits of that because at that point it felt like I was watching myself outside of my own body. *** This is when...bad things started happening. At this point, my mother was a single parent. We got by just fine and I don't believe I ever asked about my father and why he was never around. I was pretty spoiled by my family and I still am to this day. Mom worked hard and always spent time with me...I wish we spent more time together. I was a well behaved child so she could've taken me to work with her. But sadly she couldn't, so she took me to a babysitter. I wasn't alone though. The babysitter had a daughter one year older than me, so I had a playmate. My god-brother also went there too...but then one day...he just stopped coming. I never knew why...till I found out the hard way. My babysitter, as it turns out, wasn't the ideal babysitter. She wasn't kind or hugged me when I got hurt or let me play like a normal little girl. She held that facade of a smile when my mother dropped me off and picked me up. But once the door closed, her true face came out. I knew now why my god-brother stopped coming. That woman was a monster in my eyes. She barely let me play with her daughter before just cutting things off and ordering us to take a nap. As a child, like many others children at that age, I was aware of when I had to use the bathroom. I could go on my own. But when I would, she'd be sitting there...right in front of the bathroom door. Though the little hallway was a little dark, I saw there was a belt tightly clasped in her hand. It terrified me. So like backing away from a dangerous animal, I went back to my little cot and fell asleep, only to wake up with wet stains on my clothes. Not liking the fact that I always wet myself during nap time, she would hit me...like beat me as if she actually were my mother! She wouldn't even let me borrow clothes after. Just made me sit in my own wet clothes. If we went out somewhere and her daughter spotted a toy or something she wanted, just to keep some kind of image, she'd let me get the same thing. But the minute we were all back in her little apartment, she'd take it away. She would feed me sometimes before or around the time my mother would come pick me up. I wasn't a picky eater, but I sometimes got full quickly, so if I didn't eat everything on my plate she didn't let me throw it away. She hit me then make me eat every last scrap on my plate. And she would watch me like a hawk to make sure I do. Once I saw my mother come in, I'd run to her, more than happy to be going home. I would only tell my mother the good things that happen during my time there, never the bad. I always had this foreboding feeing that if I did tell her about the bad stuff, that woman would somehow come to kill me in my sleep. And I was a strong (and slightly emotionally dead) child when it came to that woman. I endured it all until my mother took me away from her. As it turns out, that woman used the money my mother paid her for watching me to put her own daughter in school. I was never more thankful to my mother for this act of kindness. My nightmare was over...for the moment. Around this time, or maybe a little later, my mother put me in a Pre-Kindergarten school. It was fun. Though at times it was troublesome. Like what was the norm, I was picked up from home and then dropped off at a relative's house until my mother got off from work. I believe my mother said once or twice I had to be picked up from a precinct because the relative that picked me up from the school bus didn't come get be. An insetting experience that I have no memory of. While I did say I was a well behaved child, I was also a very...odd child. I had been turned off to nap time, possibly due to my previous experiences, so when it was nap time I was stay up and sing to myself. It got to the point that the teachers started writing red notes in my notebooks for my mother. Eventually they took my cot away too. I didn't mind. But I wasn't given anything to do in the mean time. No book to read, no drawings to color, no toys to play with, nothing. I was pretty bored, so then I let my curiosity guide me. One day during nap time I got myself into a little trouble. And I use the word little very lightly. According to my mother, I got in trouble because I, for some reason, wandered into the bathroom and kinda flooded it. I dedicate that little experience to the fact that I'm an Aquarius and I have always loved water. Sometimes during mommy/daughter swims, I'd disappear from her sight and end up clumsily swimming almost close to the middle of the pool. After a while, my mother realized that the school I was in wasn't helping me progress. That and I was going to be held back for another year since to get into Kindergarten I had to be 4 years old. Needless to say, she pulled me out. I was sent to a much more suitable baby sitter and friend of my mom, I had a lot more fun there. Are you still with me? Hope I didn't bore you too much. Don't worry, I will get to how Lotus and Lily came to be. But let's go to the next step down memory lane. And, as in sane as this is, the next school my mother puts me in...I was in the same school from Kindergarten to 8th grade.
K - 8View OnlineTwo Mares, One BodyK - 8Keeping up with me? I know all of this seems a bit boring but don't worry, you'll get what you came for soon. But for now...my long years in the same school are about to unfold. I'm like 4 around this time and by now I slightly stopped feeling like I was watching myself outside my own body. Days like that came and went often. Ready to hear? Come on. *** I was finally in a school where I could grow. There was playtime, coloring, story time, no nap time, and I could finally be myself. I always participated in class and learned a lot. At this time, we learned Spanish using the Muzzy collection (if there's anyone else who used that, please tell me), learned important lessons for children watching Bernie the St. Bernard (another oldie for kids...again if anyone else saw this, let me know), and we even got to watch movies...a lot of movies. There were even gym classes that consisted of swim classes or jogging if the weather was good. Everyday was a joy...until baby teeth started coming out. That was the only time I dread. Sometimes they just wiggled my teeth till they came out, other times they fell out on their own. Actually, one of my teeth came loose when I accidentally but a plum seed popped out about a month later when I was eating Pringles. Another popped out about two months later because I kept playing with it. I was one of the lucky kids who didn't get their teeth pulled by someone who slammed a door after tying a string to the loose tooth. Though I did dread possibly going through that. Life went on for me and I grew up a bit more. Remember in the previous chapter how I said that my mother was a single parent and I never asked about my dad? Well it was around this time that I finally met him. And if you're wondering my nationality, my mother is Southern and my father is Caribbean...I simply say African American due to my duo-toned skin (the underneath of my upper arms is lighter than the rest of me...which is evident by a slightly visible line between the two tones). But back on track, my father actually took me on a trip to see when he grew up and it was here that I was told that I have a sister. Not just one, but 5 sister as well as 3 brothers. All half siblings of course. So far I've only met 3 sisters and 1 brother, but I'm content with that. Life was looking up for me because I also gained a step-father too and I couldn't be happier. I also had a twin too. Well not biological, she's my cousin and we've pretty much grown up together. Though, when it came to her, let's just say we were opposites in school. While my twin and I were close, others didn't really like it. For some reason, she was the popular one and I was the outcast. People would just come in and interrupt our conversations and leave me all alone. I never understood why...and to this day, still don't understand. But the bullying didn't stop there. You see, I have a very high fear of snakes and my classmates took that to their advantage. It didn't matter what it was: a toy, live, a picture, a video, a stuffed animal...if it was a snake, I was afraid of it. Someone was invited to the school to talk about and show us a live snake. The moment I saw it, I jumped out of my seat and ran away. We also went on a trip somewhere and the same thing happened again. With nowhere to really go, I ran and hid behind a teacher, almost balling my eyes out. Even on trips to the zoo, my classmates wold try dragging me, kicking and screaming, into the reptile house. Needless to say, I started to withdraw myself from others. While I did make some friends, if I could call them that, my twin was my only true friend as she was the only one who understood me. When she would try being around me more, my bullies became more determined. Verbal abuse hurts more than physical abuse. I became known as the *weird girl who sits in the corner and talks to herself** simply because I wanted to be alone and was always quiet. I didn't mind as long as I wasn't someone's punching bag.* Around this time, I was a dancer in church. But even that didn't mean I was away from bullies. The daughters of the choreographer often felt the need to bully me any way they could. Be it just yelling at me because I was in their way or broadcasting things I talked about with my twin. It dawned on me that I simply couldn't trust anyone fully. It got so bad that I just quit dancing, but not completely since my school did have a dance class. My teachers noticed that I was a talented writer and would sometimes ask me to share my writing. Just some simple poetry and short stories, nothing too big. Writing was my escape from reality. But it came knocking hard all the time. One time all the young girls in my church spent the night because the adults thought it was a good idea. For me, the fun died fast. It was late and I was tired, so I curled up in my step-dad's sleeping bag and just drifted off...only to be woken up by someone. But opening my eyes wasn't an option as some girls thought it would be a fun idea to smear toothpaste and baby powder all over my face and hair. When I tried opening my eyes, I screamed like I was about to be murdered. I was quickly taken to the bathroom to wash my face and then didn't sleep the rest of the night. Eventually though, I had hoped things would look up since I started to feel a little important. My school did annual productions of different things. And for one such play, I had a lead role with a solo and everything. Since my mother and aunt were in the choir, I thought singing was just in our genes and tried it out. All of the practices went well, but on the day of the actual performance, my voice cracked during my solo! I more or less blamed the fact that we all had to both sing and dance for the performance. My voice was simply spent. And that once little mistake was just something else I could be bullied for. Pretty soon, unable to take it, I finally started standing up for myself and lashing out at my tormentors. No one accounted for that and were more or less stunned that I found my voice. It didn't stop them, but now I could handle my bullying problem...without resorting to violence. But things were looking up. I was finally graduating the 8th grade, and a lot of my bullies had disappeared at this point due to different reasons. I figured things would look up more. I was going to high school and growing up more. Though I was still timid, I figured I was going to leave everything behind and have those fun high school experiences you see in movies. But, with my life, nothing came easy. Finally, the high school years. Now you would think Lotus came first...but you're wrong. Lily came first. And now you'll know why.
IntroductionView OnlineTwo Mares, One BodyIntroductionLotus: Hello. I am Lotus Moon...well you knew that already. I handle a majority of the readings like the clops, dramatic, random, slice of life, etc. Lily: And I am Lily, but I'm sure I need no introduction, my darlings. I handle a...minority...of the readings. The dark readings. Lotus: As the title of this story states, we are two mares occupying one mind...one body. And you've seen our true face. But you don't know our story. Lily: Our past, our light, our darkness...understand, darlings, we're not going to be dramatic and tell you a sob story about how cruel life's been to us. Lotus: I did talk about this briefly during the (slightly problematic) Q&A life stream the other day. But now I merely want to set the record straight. And satisfy your curiosity. We're not saying we're better than anypony since everypony goes through life's hardships...some worse than others... Both: But we want to tell you the story of our host...our creator...our mother... Real Me: Hello to all of you. Take my hand, let's journey down the rabbit hole that is my life.